Soul-mates Never Last
by KittyFluffx1
Summary: Soul-mate AU. A place where your soul-mates first letter of their first name and their last names is on your left wrist. Neal always had the letters PB on his left wrist. He didn't bother it much do to that he thought he could settled for second best. He went with this until he met Agent Burke. That's when his whole world he thought he knew went upside down.
1. Chapter 1

Ever since birth you have the first letter of your soul-mate's first name and last name on your left wrist. Mine always said PB with it in curvy, swoopy, and elegant letters. The letter P at on the top of my wrist with the B hanging on to the end of the P's stem. It was the most particular thing. I always wondered what it stood for. Maybe Pat Barfuss, Paige Burchfield, Pearl Baridon, or even Pixie Bargo but I could never find that person with my first letters. So I settled for second best if there is even a thing that is second to a soul-mate or "true" love. After a while the words soul-mate or true love just became cheesy and worthless so I settled for my second best; Kate Moreau.

She had blue eyes and brown straight hair. She never had a soul-mate. Her left wrist showed nothing. She was one of the unlucky ones but I was there to be with her. She didn't care about my two letters. She didn't ask about them or anything. We spent time together and I love her more than anything. We con people together and had fun but soon I left her. I was being selfish at that moment because I wanted to keep conning and she wanted to settle down. After a while I realized the risk of my job and came back to her. She didn't move on like I thought she would.

I met her in the storage unit that I kept all of my art work that I conned out of people. She was leaning against the door. Still looking beautiful as ever.

"Kate, I'm sorry I left. I love you" I said. "I may have lied about a few things but I never lied about loving you."

"I love you, too." She said. She turned around and looked like she was about to cry. I walked up to her and gave a kiss and a hug but I still felt empty. It happened every time I kiss someone. But this time it felt worse. It feels like I am seeing things for the first time. Maybe Kate isn't my true love. Maybe I should find my real soul-mate not second best. It's true that I love Kate but not romantic-like. Not the way I thought at first.

"How did you find me?" she asked. That stopped my train of thought.

"Moz heard you were fencing Mauritian penny stamps." I said.

"I quit dealing with stamps." She said confused. That's when it hit me.

The next thing I know is the F.B.I squad banging the door down with guns surrounding me and Kate.

"It's okay." I said to Kate.

"F.B.I, Hands on you head." One of the men shouted. I started backing away for Kate with my hands above my head and lowering them to the back of my head. I turn to see the man that I gave the lollipop to. I didn't know his first name only his last. He had his brown hair brushed to one side and deep brown eyes. He was wearing a black suit with a white dress and a purple tie.

"Agent Burke." I said.

"Neal Caffery." The agent said. "You're under arrest." He smirked.

"I know." I said. Why denine it.

I pulled down my right arm to shake his hand. The guns recharged and getting ready to shot. He looked confused but he shook my hand. After I said:

"Thank you. I would haven't found her without your help."

His jacket rode up a bit and I thought I saw the letter N on his wrist but it could have been a different letter. But the biggest part was the way it felt it made my heart melt and feel warm. It felt like an electric shock went through my body. It was magically. I don't understand why I felt that way but the hand shake had to end. I looked at the agent's face and saw a little smile tugging at his lips. Another agent came and put a handcuff on me.

"So you guys were all in that municipal van out front." I said. I mean there are about a dozen of them. "That's got to be uncomfortable."

"It didn't smell too good either." The agent that was cuffing me said. The agent started to walk me towards the door that they came in but not without another look at Agent Burke. I wonder what his first name is. That was the last time I saw the agent.

**Four years later**

Now here I am in jail and about to break out. I shaved my beard that I grew and put on the security guard outfit. I am walking down the line of the other prisoners at work hoping that no one notices me. I got a couple looks but no one said anything. Not even the guards. I started walking towards the exit, the only way out of here. I pulled out the card I snatched and slid it through the scanner and open the door. The prison guard grabbed it all of a sudden. Oh shit, I'm caught, damn. I waited until something happen but all that happened was the guard holding the door for me. I nodded and went out the doors. I exhaled a sigh of relief. I looked around the parking lot and looked for a police car I could use. I ran up to the closest van and hotwired it. I pulled out a tape out of my pants and put in the player. The song 'Hold on I'm coming.' By: Sam and Dave's. I opened a little compartment and pulled out three dollars. How convent. I smirk. I drove the truck and then dumped it with the security jacket before people start looking for it. I ran up to a little 'yard' sale and saw a yellow jacket just what I need.

"Hi. How're you doing, man?" The person in charge of the sale said.

"Good. How about you?" I ask walking towards the mirror and putting the yellow jacket on.

"I'm fine." The person said. "It's only five bucks, man."

"I'll give you three." I said using one of my many charming smile to make him go for it. It honestly didn't take long. He took the three dollars and didn't argue. I guess I do work miracles or the guy was desperate but whatever.

I went to the next part of my plan. Getting a vehicle. There is a little Valla that the valets wear yellow jackets. The Valla is for the airport so the owner won't know it's gone until they come back. I ran up to a man and his wife getting out of a convertible and they fell for my jacket.

"Take good care of her. We will be back in a month." The man said. They took their luggage and gave me the keys and one one-hundred dollar bill.

"Thank you, sir." I said.

I got into the car and drove off. I took my jacket off and into the back and enjoyed the rush of the air as I passed by. I couldn't wait to surprise Kate.

She visited me after I went to jail and we would talk. She visited each week but the last time I saw her, she broke up with me and told me that we won't see each other again. We yelled at each other and she left. I wanted to know why so I broke out of jail and is going towards our shared apartment. I didn't love her like I use to but I didn't show any signs of that. I was honestly glad that she broke up with me but I didn't like the part about her not seeing me again. I didn't like losing someone close to me. But one thing I noticed was I haven't felt the same about Kate ever since I met Agent burke in that storage unit when he was arresting me. I couldn't stop thinking about him and wondering what his first name was. Also that wonderful, spine tingling hand shake. I wondered what letters he has on his wrist. But either way I would find out.

I parked the car a block away for the apartment and went up to our room. I open the door and it was cleared. Everything was gone. All I could see was a wine bottle standing in the middle of the floor. I grabbed it and slumped against the square pillar. Thinking about all the good times we had with this bottle. I know I didn't love like I use to but I still cared about her.

I heard echoing footsteps coming closer. I guess the police found me.

"I see Kate move out." The person belonging to the footsteps said.

I know that voice its Burke's. I guess the police couldn't find me so they brought in the one person who could find me. I would be filled with joy but I just couldn't at this moment.

"She leave you a message in that?" Burke asked. He was only standing a couple strides away.

"The bottle is the message." I sighed.

"It's been a while."

"Yeah." A little too long for my taste though. "Few years give or take."

"You carrying?"

"You know I don't like guns." I grinned.

"They asked me: What makes a guy like you pull a boneheaded escape with four months to go."

I just keep staring at the floor. I still ask me the same question. Why am I here?

"I guess you figure it out." I said.

"Kate says adios to you at prison, and then gets busy with her disappearing act. Her trail ends here." Peter explained. "But you already know that." He looked at me and smiled.

I looked at him and he was wearing the same outfit that he was wearing at the storage unit. His hair was a bit browner but his eyes were still the deep, warm brown as I remember.

"I missed her by two days." I said looking around still slumped against the square pillar.

"Still, it only took you a month and a half to escape a super-max." Burke said impressed. "Damn impressive."

I smiled at that comment and gave a low laugh like breaking out of that prison was the easiest thing in the world. Grant it was easy but not that easy.

Burke went on his walkie-talkie and told the people outside that it was clear, I was indentified and unarmed. I looked up at this in question. The people responded back with a 'roger.'

"We surrounding?" I asked curious. He nodded. "How many?"

"Including my agents and the marshals all of them, I think." He said looking around then at me. I nodded. Damn there is no escape and man I didn't know I was so wanted.

"What's the message?" Burke asked.

"Goodbye." I said setting it down.

"Women."

I scuffle.

"We're going to give you another four years for this, you know?" He said.

"I don't care." I said. What is four years going to do? I just wanted to see Kate again and learn the agent's first name and the letters on his wrist. That all but seems like I won't get either. Maybe.

"You know, that's the same suit you were wearing the last time you arrested me." I chuckled out.

"Mm. Classics never go out of style." He said. I look around his suit and saw a very particular thing. I start reaching for it on his shoulder and he flinches but I pulled back for a second. I reach for it again and this time he doesn't flinch away. He looked at me with a face between 'what are you doing' face and 'I'm watching you' face. I could see his face clearly now with me only a foot away from his. He is very handsome. He watched my hand as it went to his shoulders and picked up the thing. I was right at what it was.

"You know what this is?" I asked holding it up.

"No idea." He said. "I got it from a case I was supposed to be working on before they yanked me off to find you."

"You think you'll catch him?" I questioned.

"Don't know." He said. "He's good. Maybe as good as you."

"What's it worth if I tell you what it is?" I asked. He looked at me confused. "Is it worth a meeting?"

"What are you talking about?"

"If I tell you what this is right now will you agree to meet me back in prison in one week?" I asked. "Just a meeting?" I gave my most charming smile to make him go for it.

I heard a voice in the distance yelling 'hallway clear' so I didn't have much time. I really hope he goes for it. The voice is getting closer.

"Okay." He said calmly.

"It's a security fiber for the new Canadian one hundred-dollar bill." I said quickly. I gave the thing back to the agent. He held in his hands looking at it then at me. I then heard the thuds and the scarps of the other agents coming. I held up my hands because I know how this goes. They put the handcuffs on me and yell all the things from last time. I give Burke one last glance before they escort me out and say:

"One week."

**One week later**

Peter came. They set us out at the tables that allowed us to have a talk face-to-face. The room was a fading green with a couple windows and six or eight tables. I sat down in a prison orange short sleeve shirt and pants. I covered my left wrist with putting my hands together on top of the folder that I brought.

"Hello, Agent Burke." I said cheerfully.

"Hi." He said seriously. "Now tell me how did you know?"

"What is your first name, first?" I said.

"Why would you want to know that?" He questioned.

"If you want to know ho-." I said getting interrupted.

"Peter. Now can we go on with this?" He said.

Peter Burke. Peter Burke. Peter Burke. It fits perfectly with my two letters on my wrist and for the feelings I started to develop for the agent. Now I just need to know his letters and I have the perfect plan for it. Oh my god this is amazing.

"Ok." I said smiling ear-to-ear.

"How did you know?" he said sternly.

"Come on, Peter. It's what I do." I said with his name perfectly rolling off of my tongue. "How upset were the Canadians?"

"Oh, very." He chuckled out. "Well, as upset as Canadians can get. All right, so I agreed to a meeting. We're meeting." He began to sit down it looked like but didn't.

"I know why you call him the Dutchman." I began. "Like the ghost ship. He disappears whenever you get close."

He shrugged. "How do you know anything about him?"

"You know my life. You don't think I know yours?" I said. "Did you get the birthday cards?"

I actually only know his birthday, that he works for FBI white collar division, that he has no wife or husband but a sister, he has letters on his wrist and his name. Also a couple of his cases that aren't about me.

"Nice touch." He said.

"You've been after the Dutchman almost as long as you were after me." I said. "I'll help you catch him."

"Really? Really? How does that work?" he questioned. "Do you want to be prison pen pals?"

I pulled out the folder that was under my hands and flipped it open. I slam my fingers at a place on the paper. He came over and looked at the paper and began to read.

"You can get me out of here." I said. "There is a case law, Precedent. I can be released into your custody."

"Nice. This is very nice. But you're right, I do know you." He said like he was talking to a child. "And I know the second you're out; you'll take off after Kate."

I actually might do that but I have a plan for that, too. But before I do that I really want to know what is on his wrist.

"Peter, I am not gonna run." I said reassuring. "GPS tracking anklet. The new ones are tamperproof. Never been skipped on." I pushed a picture of the anklet and how good it is towards him. He began to look at that.

"There's always a first time." He said placing the papers down. I was heartbroken but there might still be hope.

"Think about it." I said looking at him with puppy eyes.

"Sorry, Neal. Nice try." He said and got up. Patted my shoulder a couple times and walked out with my folder. I watched him as he left.

I went back to my old cell and just laid there thinking about all that happened. I didn't realize how late it got until Bobby, the guard told me I had to turn off my light.

"Give me one more minute." I asked. "And it is already midnight."

"Yep." Bobby said and went off.

I laid there and eventually swung my legs off the bed and sat up. I looked up at the wall with all of my tally marks. All three years and eight months of it. I waited so long until my sentence was up but Kate dumped me that week and never came back. She moved out of our shared apartment. I add another line to finish one of the groups and was about to put another but I couldn't stand it. I waited so long and this is what I get another fucking four years in this hell hole. Peter won't let me be that consult thing and I am stuck here for another fucking four years. I am sick of it. I keep Xing out the whole chart and breaking the light bulb in the progress. Then I slammed it as hard as I could and just stared at it. One of the inmates yelled at me but oh well. Who cares anymore? I'll be in here for the next four years. Might as well get use to it. The wire that was holding the light bulb swung back and forth. I ran my finger through my hair and breathing heavily to subside all of my anger and try to relax. I slam my fingers down and began to relax. I went to the other side of my cell and started a new chart. Well, next four years here I come.


	2. Chapter 2

I sat on my bed to 'admire' my good work on the old tallie marks. The big black 'X's on the wall with the wire, which use to hold the light bulb, dangling over the 'artwork'. Kate is gone and Peter probably is not coming back. I'm here for the next godforsaken four years. I put my head in my hands and sighed. I hear footsteps coming to my cell probably to make sure that I have not escape.

"Neal Caffery, a FBI agent is here to take you away." The guard said. He unlocked the prison cell door and tossed me a set of clothes; a white t-shirt, gray pants, a black six-button coat, black socks, and black dress shoes of some sort. "Hurry up."

I was so filled with joy. I stripped of the prison orange jumpsuit and put on the clothes and made my hair presentable. Then the guard led me towards the exit that let prison people who are free go. At the last guard station they stopped me and put on the anklet that I told Peter about. It was a gray rectangular thing with curve edges. It had to lights on it one red and one green. They put it on my left ankle and snapped it together and locked it with a funny looking key. It turned green when it was on and locked. Two guards in black took me down the barb wire fence standing over my hand. The big metal door unlocked and slid open to the left. I walked of the little level thing and the first thing I hear is:

"Let me see it." Peter said. He was standing in front of an awful looking blue car. Who I hope belongs to the FBI. He was wearing a tan or more like an off-white coat with a suit underneath. I lifted my left pant leg to show my anklet. "You understand how this works?"

"I'm released into the custody of the FBI under your supervision. Let this thing chafe to my leg." I said as I began to walk towards the agent and his awful looking car. "Anything I'm missing?"

"Yeah. If you run and I catch you which you know I will because I'm 2-and-0 you're not back here for four years, you're back here for good." Peter said. "You're going to be tempted to look for Kate. Don't"

What a buzz-killer.

"I told you, the bottle meant goodbye." I sighed.

"Then leave it at that." Peter said sternly. "This is a temporary situation. Help me catch the Dutchman, we can make it permanent" He turned around and started towards the driver sit. I head for the passenger sit and asked:

"Where are we heading?"

"You're new home." He said. That is the last thing we talked about. The car ride was silent and calm. I just looked out the window. I saw New York as it was and the few trees and just the normal stuff of this place. It seems this place has not change much since I went to jail. I was so distracted that I didn't realize we pulled into my 'new home' until we got there. It was a rundown motel and a filthy one at that. The whole building was rusted down and just yuck! We walked through the doors and down the hall. There was filth everywhere and it was just plain nasty. Peter went up to the 'clerk'.

"This is Neal Caffery. My office called earlier." He said. I sighed. I felt very uncomfortable in this joint. The man behind the counter dangled the keys in front of me and said:

"There you go, Snake eyes." He grinned and I saw a few rotting teeth. That really sent a shiver down my spine. I grab the key out of the man's hands.

"Thank you." I gave a smile then whispered at Peter and put a hand on his shoulder. "Can I talk to you for a second?"

He nodded and grabbed his stuff. We turned around but there was a person there and just looking all creepy like.

"Hang on. Farther down." I told Peter. We got there and we heard a bang on the counter by that one man. Then he keep search everywhere to find something probably a roach. God how does this place even pass inspection. Its filth, they have cockroaches, they have people here acting creepy and honestly I really don't want to know how my room looks like. The inspector probably gets to creeped out to even stay to see if it is up to date.

"Do I have to stay here?" I asked looking him in the eye.

"Cowboy up." Peter said. "All right, it costs seven-hundred dollars a month to house you in the inside so that's what it costs here." I can't believe this slimy, disgusting place can ask people for seven-hundred dollars a month. "For the money, this is as good as it gets."I looked down until he said: "You find something better, take it."

"What about clothes?" I asked. "I'm wearing my entire wardrobe."

"You like thrift stores." He said not really asking. "There's one at the end of the block." I can't believe this. I already have to live in a crappy motel and now I have to get clothes from a thrift store. I was about to say something but Peter cut me off with: "No, don't start. No protests." He raised his hand to gesture. "This is what you wanted, isn't it?" He came a little closer. "Look it, it's not—Oh, look at her. You don't get that prison do you? No. Not at all." He gestured towards the woman leaning at the counter. I really hoped that he would know that that woman there was a prostitute. I am not that petty. "Listen, your tracking anklet is set up so you can go anywhere within two miles of this place. Here is your homework." He handed me a bundle of folders with a string keeping them together. "Remember, two miles." He raised his hand and put up two fingers and then thumped on the chest and then left. "I'll see you at seven a.m."

I sighed. The person behind the counter kept banging the table and the people staring at my so I went to the thrift shop to find so kind of good looking clothes. I walked to the thrift store and looked around and ended up at the clothes line. Where do people even get this stuff? There is no fashion taste and everything looks crummy and distasteful. I rather be back in the prison orange jumpsuit. Then clerk said hello so I looked to see if it was Peter coming to say: I'm sorry to bring you to this hellhole. I shouldn't have and I didn't know you were my soul-mate. Also be all dream like. I didn't know I was daydreaming until the piece of clothing in my hand seemed to slip. But no it was an elder woman with a nice clothes, nice hair and very beautiful. A person who didn't belong in a thrift store.

"I've come to donate these." The woman said. She set them down. They were in those bags that hold those nice and tailored suits. I set down the piece of clothing that I was scowling at and was peeking around to see what the woman had. I moved to a place so I could hear them better.

"Men's suits?" The clerk asked.

"Mm-hm" said the woman nodding. I know it. I looked over and saw a fedora. Oh my god, a fedora. Yes. Score. I walked up to the woman and said:

"Thos look fantastic."

"Oh." The woman said surprised. "They belong to my late husband, Byron. He really did have great taste in clothes."

"May I?" I asked towards the clothes. The clerk handed a jacket to me. "Thank you." I looked at the brand name and was surprise that she was donating these.

"This is a Devore." I said.

"Yes. He won it from Sy himself." She said. Huh?

"Won it?" I questioned confused.

"He beat him at a backdoor draw." She said. I was studded. I guess she noticed because she started to chuckle.

"What? Your husband played poker with Sy Devore?" I asked still stunned. I was grinning from ear-to-ear.

"He certainly did. And so did I."

"No."

"Yes." She said as I took off the jacket. "The guys even let me sit in once in a while on a hand. And I was good." I gave the jacket back to the clerk and giggled with the woman. I grabbed the fedora and did some trick with the hat and put it on my head.

"I'm glad to see you appreciate these." She said. "I was hoping someone would. I've got a whole closet full of them."

"A whole closet?" I asked stunned again.

She nodded. "Well, actually, it's a guest room but I haven't used it for anything except for storage for years." I put the jacket back on as she continued her story. "Oh, Byron used to wear that one whenever we went dancing." I wondering why she is getting rid of these when she is so connected to them. "The neighborhood was—Let's say it was much nicer then."

"You live nearby?" I asked.

"Not far." She answered. Well I think I got a place out of that motel hell. We chatted a bit longer. I told her my name and she told me her's. It is June. It fittest perfectly with her. We started talk and I explained my situation and about my anklet. After a while I asked if I paid her to stay in that guest bedroom if I could. She said yes. I asked if she was afraid of me being a criminal and all. She said that Byron was a criminal too and explained what he did. She also explains the conditions of living at her place. So I went back to the motel hell and grab my homework and left a note for Peter at the counter to let him know I moved. That I moved 1.6 miles from here, gave him an address, and I also signed it with XOXO, Neal. Might as well as give him a clue but he might take it as a joke so that might have not worked out. The bedroom was gorgeous. When she meant a closet full with suits she meant it. It was a big walk-in closet with dozens of dozens of suits. There was a mini kitchen with a stove, microwave, fridge, and a dining room table. There was a couch, selves with all kinds of books, a flat screen TV and a king size bed with blue silk sheets. Also there was a walk out patio. I decide to take a shower to get rid of all the grimy and filth off of me from jail and that heel motel. I got into a pair of comfortable pajamas and went over my homework and eventually went to bed. I had a busy day tomorrow.

**Morning**

I got up around 6:00 to get ready for my first day on the job. I lay in the bed a little longer and relaxed then June came and knocked on my door. I got up and put on a purple robe and go up the door. She came in with a tray with food, tea, coffee, and orange juice. I followed her and was about to open the patio door but I opened the door due to I didn't want her to drop anything. Soon her granddaughter started walking into join us. Who later I found out was Cindy.

"Thank you." She said and brought the food to the table on the patio and set everything up. I sat down in one of the chairs. She had some tea and I had some orange juice. Hey you are never too old to have orange juice. We talked for a while until the doorbell rung about 6:50 and she went to go down to see who it is. The granddaughter went farther on the patio. It was probably Peter so I grab the Newspaper that June brought up with her. I opened it and started to pretend to read. The next thing I hear is the door opening and Peter coming in. I peer of the newspaper and say:

"You're early."

"We're shaking a lead at the airport." He said. "We got a hit on Snow White."

I folded the newspaper in half and looked at Peter. Peter was standing with his hands on his hips. He was making sure I did my homework.

"Snow White." I said. "A phrase you decoded from a suspected Dutchman communiqué to Barcelona."

"You moved." Peter said rocking on his heels.

"It's nicer than the other place, don't you think?"

"Yeah. I don't remember the other place having a view."

"I went to the thrift store like you suggested." I said. "And June,-."

"Lady with the dog. We met."

"Was donating her late husband's clothes. We hit it off. She had an extra guest room." I pointed out. "You said if I could find a nicer place for the same price, I should take it."

"I did say that." He said in disbelief. "All this for seven-hundred?"

"Yep." I said. "I help out around the place."

"Oh sure, feed the dog."

"Yeah, wash the Jag. Watch her granddaughter from time to time."

"She got you babysitting."

Then Cindy came walking back in with the cup of tea still in her hand. She was wearing a blue dress and a long silk jacket over it. Peter stood there with his mouth a parted and his eyes following her. June's granddaughter grabs the newspaper from my hands and looked at it.

"How's it going?" Peter said.

"Morning, Neal."

"Granddaughter?" He points at Cindy.

"She's an art student." I explain.

"Unbelievable. Go get dressed." He said. Pointing to my room. I looked at him all innocent-like. I sense a little jealous. Is it because I got a sweet place or because of the granddaughter. I nodded to the granddaughter and went to go get dress with a grin on my face.

I went to my closet and put on a black suit, white dress shirt, purple tie, black socks, black shoes, and last but not least a fedora. I came down stairs with Peter at the bottom. Peter stared at me with his mouth completely open. He looked more stunned by me in a suit then the granddaughter. He followed me with his eyes down the stairs. I carried the fedora in my hand and at the bottom I did a trick with it like at the thrift shop. Peter did not take his eyes off of me even for one second. He just stood like a statue not moving a muscle. I got uncomfortable so I snap my fingers and said:

"Peter, Peter, Peter Burke. Hello." Waving my hands around his face. He got out of his statue form in no time. Peter seemed to have a blush and turned his face to hide it. "How do I look?"

"You look like a cartoon." Peter blurted out and turned his head. I was right he was forming a blush but it only showed at the tips of his ears.

"This is classic Rat Pack." I said surprised and sternly. I thought maybe he would say sexy or hot. I would even settle for cute but a cartoon. Seriously. Well it depends on the cartoon but still. "This is a Devore."

"Oh, sorry, Dino." He said. I just kept messing with my hat and rolling my eyes at the nickname. "Will you stop it with the hat?"

"Oh." I said. He seemed annoyed but it was hard to take him seriously with the blush from early still there.

"Come on. Let's go." He used his head to gesture to the door instead of his hands.

"You're upset." I said then whispered: "Sour grapes but still blushing."

"What was that?" He asked. Coming back towards me.

"Look, you tell me which rule I broke, and I will thumb it back to prison myself."

"For starters." He said. I put the held the hat to my chest. He pointed at my with his left hand and the sleeve of this coat and suit rode up and I could see that the letter on his wrist was N. All I need to know is the other letter and that's all. Peter didn't say something for the first couple of minutes and when he did he stumbled over words. Finally he came out and said, "I work hard. I do my job well. And I don't have a ten-million-dollar view of Manhattan that I share with a twenty-two year old art student while we sip espresso."

"Why not?" I asked. It is an innocent questioned.

"Why not? Because I'm not supposed to. The amount of work I do equals certain things in the real world. Not cappuccino in the clouds." He said. Oh maybe he wants to know where the coffee is from and maybe we can stop this argument or rant or whatever. In a way it sounds like we are a couple arguing about a house or coffee.

"I will find out where June buys her coffee if it is that important." I said pointing my hat which way and that.

"It is not about the coffee."

"I think it is."

"No, it's not." He calmed down and took in a shaky breath. "This is what gets you into trouble." I looked down at that point. "This is the start of those something-for-nothing schemes." I looked up at this. "That lead to the frauds that got you locked up." He raised his eyebrows and dared me to talk.

"I think it's some sort of Italian roast." I said staring at the ceiling. I swear it is all about the coffee. I have agree it is pretty good coffee.

"Get in the car." Peter pointing outside towards the car.

"Okay." I said looking at the floor. I began walking towards the car with Peter on my heels. I got in the passage seat and Peter got into the driver seat. He starts the car and we start to drive down the 'beautiful' streets of Manhattan, New York. But he only thing on my mind is about the letters on Peter's wrist and trying to figure them out.


End file.
